Hello everyone, and welcome back to Wrong Every Time. Today I am delighted to return to the world of Ojamajo Doremi, a fantastic franchise that we last visited three friggin’ years ago. That’s quite a long time in anime fandom, so let’s start off with a brief refresher. Doremi and her three friends Hazuki, Aiko, and Onpu are currently hard at work training to become full witches, which has most recently involved them taking care of a magical baby named Hana. Hana is so overstuffed with magical energy that her tantrums can topple buildings, so it’s been quite the challenge for our would-be witches – but having most recently cleared Hana’s magical health examination, they’re all feeling pretty confident about the road ahead.

That’s about where we’re at narratively, but of course, that doesn’t cover any of what makes this production truly special. With a production spearheaded by legends like Takuya Igarashi and Junichi Sato, Ojamajo Doremi benefits from expressive character animation, beautiful background art, and impactful, emotionally resonant storyboards. The show’s aesthetic strengths are further complemented by excellent character writing and unusually thoughtful vignettes, diving into difficult aspects of childhood and life more generally with frankness and grace. The show’s leads have grown significantly over the course of their journeys, and the production’s ensemble approach means we’ve come to know a great number of their friends and classmates as well. Ojamajo Doremi is an absolute standout of a magical girl show, one of those lightning-struck creative confluences that demonstrate anime at its best. Let’s see what our ojamajos have been up to!

Episode 8

Our cold open focuses on an idol known as “Kurara-chan,” who seems to be the same age as our heroines. At first she gleefully waves to fans from the top of a giant record player, but after a record scratch, it seems to become a sort of black hole drawing in her acclaim. A tidy metaphor for the unruly beast that is popular acclaim

“I’m reminded of my miserable test.” First verse and Doremi is already complaining about her test scores. I recall the first opening also had a line like “I got zero on my test but ten for smiles” – is every single Doremi opening going to feature Doremi lamenting about her grades?

Oh my god, these little movement cycles of the ojamajos dancing around the frame are so full of personality. This all feels very Sato-like, especially the last sequence as an angry witch shoves them out of the frame. It’s good to be back

“Unlike magic goods, taking care of plants takes a lot of work.” The shift of their shop moving from magical goods to plants echoes the emotional development of our leads. The “magical goods” they sold were essentially just little clay statues and beads, serving more as a play-acting model of professional labor than the genuine article. Having proven themselves capable of greater responsibilities, they’re now handling actual living things, which require significantly more care and attention

We immediately see the phones they received last episode being used to further express their mature handling of greater responsibilities, as Doremi uses hers to check in on Pop and Hana

“Across Time, In Search of Onpu’s Mama’s Secret!” Sure, let’s jump right into a time travel episode, why not

Even the establishing shots in this show are full of personality – I like the subtle curving of perspective as we hone in on Onpu’s TV studio, as well as the reliable perforated cardboard texture of the background art, which always lends a sense of softness to the production

Onpu is invited to perform at a big event that will feature many veteran artists

At the mention of “Takanomon Hall,” Onpu’s mother is clearly struck by a wave of remembered trauma. Some clever visual tricks used to convey this moment – a warped and color-inverted vision of the hall presents it as a house of nightmares, then brief, rapid cuts of incidental objects emphasize the specific tonal memories she associates with her trauma. An effective illustration of how memories we wish to forget often reassert themselves, followed by a sequence of Onpu’s mother shifting away from her silhouetted companions, emphasizing how she’s been mentally drawn away from the ongoing conversation. Quite a lot of visual innovation for such a quick sequence!

She requests Onpu give up the job, but won’t provide a clear reason why

Another inventive sequence as Onpu runs away from her mother, with the production using ostentatious wipe cuts to illustrate the progression of Onpu’s flight and frustration. Like many children’s anime, Doremi is happy to embrace less naturalistic framing tools in emphasizing its character beats, frequently drawing attention to the artificial nature of the production through tricks like a turning-the-page styled wipe cut. That doubles as a joke in this case, like we’re skimming through Onpu’s tantrum to get to the good part

Having come to care for Hana-chan, Onpu cannot understand why her own mother refuses to support her in this

Like basically all of this show’s architecture, Onpu’s house is extremely charming, looking much like a two-story gingerbread house

Onpu’s bedroom reflects her personality, with a massive case of trophies facing her bed

Curled up on her balcony in a blanket, it’s clear that Onpu feels terribly isolated. But then she hears her mother crying in her sleep in the next room. This episode is striking on one of Ojamajo Doremi’s most compelling narrative qualities: its willingness to emphasize the vulnerability of the adults in our lives, and understand them to be fallible people just like their children. Several of the show’s best episodes center on Aiko’s parents’ divorce, emphasizing how even our parents can be imperfect or hurting in their own ways. Ojamajo Doremi asks more of its audience than many shows, and is far greater for it – the resulting authenticity of its adult characters is one of its finest features

Onpu is unsurprisingly preoccupied the next day, with her focus on Hana-chan emphasizing her continuous mulling over what is owed between parents and children

“I think there’s a really deep reason for this.” “What kind of reason?” Nice continuity of Majo Rika still being terrified of Pop the Destroyer

Onpu deduces that her mother’s feelings must have something to do with her time as an idol. Doremi leaps on this, and declares that there’s nothing to do but magic up a solution

The use of something almost like a paint splatter effect to texture their magical stage backgrounds is interesting. It certainly does help foster a sense of slight unreality, like they’re surrounded by motes of sparkling light, with the irregular distribution of the splatter giving it more of an organic feel

“My magical seed was used up.” “Then put another one in.” Doremi’s one secession to material necessity: these occasional over-labored sequences of the characters fussing over their magical artifacts, available at a retailer near you

“Is this really a telephone?” Feeling intensely old as the ojamajos are baffled by the existence of a rotary phone

Gosh, it’s so wonderful to be reintroduced to the profound visual playfulness of this production. Consistent little touches like this pop-in shot of Doremi accompanying her call to Majo Rika just instill the whole production with a sense of whimsy and magic

“Majo Rika said that she doesn’t know me”

Extremely good Hadzuki faces as she realizes they’re somehow still in Misora City

As they list off all the buildings and public utilities that are different, my American self is struck by the fantastical concept of a country that invests heavily in public works or walkable spaces

A newspaper at last reveals that they’ve traveled to 1980, twenty years in the past. Of course, Doremi just scans this as “that guy sure is weird for reading out-of-date newspapers.” Bless your heart, Doremi

More playfully inorganic transitions, this time conveying their journey across town as a pan over loose crayon-scribble buildings. I adore Doremi’s willingness to discard naturalism in favor of all these diverse aesthetic flourishes

Hadzuki warns the gang about the dangers of altering history, and then immediately rushes off to say hello to her own mother. Goddamnit Hadzuki

“This CD shop is still here.” “But it’s all records!” A note of extra-textual sadness there; dedicated music stores survived a number of medium shifts, but digital distribution has largely killed them, relegating the unique thrill of sifting through a mysterious record store to history

And at last they discover the truth: just as she was about to perform at Takanomon Hall, Onpu’s mother tripped and fell down her entire stage platform, fracturing her leg and engendering a deep fear of performance. The performance Onpu is heading towards is the same one that forced her mother into retirement

“She must think that the same thing will happen to you, Onpu-chan.” This remark is framed against Onpu once again staring at the sleeping Hana, illustrating her realization that both she and her mother are simply trying to keep the child they care for safe

Gosh, this show just goes so far beyond most children’s media. Onpu is demonstrating a remarkably mature attitude here, having grown enough to understand her mother’s fears, and to want to keep her mother safe just as she has been protected. A poignant moment as Onpu repeats the lullaby that was once taught to her, calming her mother’s nightmares

“Can I sleep with you?” Having come to recognize her mother’s frailty, Onpu appreciates all the more the privilege she currently enjoys under her mother’s protection. She’s matured enough to savor these fleeting moments of being under her mother’s wing

And of course she sings her mother’s song in the end, carrying both their dreams into the future

And Done

Oh god, here come the tears. Yep, I’m balling, I am a sniffly mess, I am in shambles. Ojamajo Doremi knows precisely how to pierce my heart, expressing all the messy complexity of families and childhood with acuity and compassion. This show respects its target audience enough to truly challenge them, asking young viewers to understand the frailty of their guardians – and through doing so, reaffirm just how hard those guardians work to maintain your happiness. It is not the strength that comes naturally that is most impressive, but the strength we perform in spite of our weakness, that we might briefly shield our loved ones from harm. Onpu’s path to learning that lesson was another highlight for this beautiful production, and a perfect reintroduction to Doremi’s world. This show is really something special.

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